The Streets of Boomtown
by sunstarunicorn
Summary: A series of oneshots and ficlets following Prowl and his human partners Ray Hechler and Tom Turcotte. Rating may go up
1. Chapter 1 An Extremely Sturdy Patrol Car

The Streets of Boomtown

Summary: A series of oneshots and ficlets following Prowl and his human partners Ray and Tom

A/N: First off…if anyone can think of a better title, go for it. My only requirement is that "Boomtown" be in the title ; ) . Transformers belong to Hasbro and Boomtown belongs to NBC (however little they deserve it for canceling a show as great as Boomtown). Secondly…all oneshots/ficlets are basically in the same 'universe'. With no further ado, enjoy.

* * *

An Extremely Sturdy Patrol Car

"Whoa!" Tom put out his hands instinctively as his partner slammed on the brakes and skidded to the side to avoid the truck that had just pulled out right into a police pursuit. He ignored the jolt from his seatbelt locking as he peered under the truck's load at the Mercedes. A black kid jumped out and took off running.

"Got 'im"

"No wait!"

"He's got a gun." Tom charged after the suspect as Ray called in their location from inside their patrol car. As he chased the suspect into a tunnel, he heard tires squealing behind him.

* * *

"And he's moving…" Ray dropped the radio in favor of putting the patrol car into reverse. The older car roared a bit as Ray accelerated and attempted to force the Mercedes into a handy wall.

"Five Baker Seven resuming pursuit eastbound Matatio."

"Pull over!" Ray didn't dare look forward as both cars picked up speed. "Pull over now." The Mercedes started pulling ahead and Ray risked a look forward before slamming on the brakes and skidding the old, trusty patrol car around. The maneuver cost precious seconds and the Mercedes was able to turn into traffic. Ray stuck to the perp's tail as the Mercedes bulled its way through afternoon L.A. traffic.

"Uh oh…wrong way down a one way road." Ray shook his head as he swerved around several honking cars. The suspect didn't seem to care as he skidded around the next turn into a parking garage.

Ray groaned as his patrol car slammed through the wooden bar, but ignored the new hood ornament in favor of keeping up with the Mercedes' hairpin turns. Both cars jolted over a speed bump.

"Five Baker Seven Control. I'm in the Westside Mall parking structure. Is the airship on station?"

"Airship involved in the rescue of Officer Turcotte."

"Rescue, what rescue?"

Any response was lost in the skidding tires as Ray slammed on the brakes. A four-door sedan driven by an elderly lady had pulled right between the Mercedes and the pursuing patrol car. Metal screeched as the patrol car thumped into the sedan.

"Are you okay?" Ray asked, focused on the fleeing Mercedes.

"Oh well, yes I'm okay."

"'K, can you back up your car, I'm chasing a very bad man."

"Well it won't start."

"I'm just going to squeeze past you." The patrol car plowed forward, shoving the helpless sedan out of the way.

"Oh look out, you hit my car."

"We're insured, fully insured," Ray called as he accelerated around the turn. "I hope we're insured."

The Mercedes sat abandoned on the top floor and Ray pulled in right beside the other vehicle. The big cop abandoned his trusty steed and headed for the mall entrance.

Inside the mall he headed over to the mall security guard and asked, "Did you see a kid come through here?" As the guard stared at him, Ray repeated his question. "A kid, did you see a kid?"

Before the guard could answer, a young man rounded the corner and immediately ran.

"Stop!" Ray grabbed the guard's stool. "Get up, get up." The officer sent the stool rolling and tripped up the runner.

"Get your hands out at your sides, don't even think about it." The young man froze and as Ray approached, gun raised, he added, "Now get your hands out slow where I can see 'em. Out at your sides, palms up."

"I never stole anything before in my life officer, I swear."

"What kinda car you drivin'?"

"I don't drive a car, I don't have a car. I took the bus."

"Took the bus?" Ray paused and reached down to search the kid, asking, "Alright what is you're so willing to get shot over?" As Ray pulled out the offending CD, he took one look at the cover. "Michael Bolten?"

"It's for my lady," the handcuffed kid retorted as Ray dropped the CD on his back.

"For your lady?"

* * *

As Ray and Tom walked outside the station, duty shift over and the case now in the hands of the two plain-clothed detectives, Ray spied their patrol car.

"One second Thomas."

"What's up?"

"Could've sworn I hit that lady's car hard enough to dent the patrol car."

Tom followed his partner to the car. The exterior gleamed in the light from the station and both cops stared at the polished surface. Ray ran a hand over the headlight, checking for cracks.

"You sure you hit her?"

"Well it could have been just a random jolt," Ray retorted.

Tom leaned closer and spied a very small nick in the headlight. "All I'm seeing is a scratch."

"Hmm. I guess, Thomas, that we have ourselves an extremely sturdy patrol car."

* * *

A/N: Trust me (wink, wink) this is indeed a crossover. As far as Transformers G1 is concerned, this is after the Battle of Autobot City (in other words, after Transformers: The Movie). As far as Boomtown is concerned…well those discerning fans of Boomtown should recognize the pilot episode. = ) And yes, I'm a shameless stealer of lines…nothing better than the original. *kneels down and begs* Please read and review


	2. Chapter 2 Ramming Speed

The Streets of Boomtown

Summary: A series of oneshots and ficlets following Prowl and his human partners Ray Hechler and Tom Turcotte.

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Ramming Speed

A/N: Ahem…I realize I'm probably confusing everyone who hasn't seen Boomtown…*wince* So…I can give a brief background or I can keep doing what I'm doing. Suggestions please…pretty please?

_Italics_ = point of view

* * *

_Tom_

Ray pulled around a corner, accelerating to catch up to the chase in progress. "There they are." Ray grinned at his partner and added, "Tell 'em."

Tom pulled the radio up and keyed it. "Patrol One Frank Forty-Nine, we have joined the pursuit of the Bendix homicide suspect. Please notify the WC that as the primary unit in the original crime scene we request to take over the pursuit."

"One Frank Forty-Nine, roger that."

Tom smirked. "They're gonna love us."

Ray snorted. "Who, Taylor and Ed? They snaked that mall caller from us last week. What goes around, comes around."

"One Frank Forty-Nine, be advised the WC says you are now primary."

"Patrol One Frank Forty-Nine, roger"

The car's engine revved and roared as Ray accelerated and pulled out, speeding past the line of patrol cars. "Wave to the little people Thomas."

The car pulled in behind the speeding, navy blue truck. The truck cut wildly across the road and skidded into a turn. Ray cranked the steering wheel over and pushed the old car for everything it had as the truck attempted to use another curve to shake off pursuit.

Tom shook his head. "This guy Wilson, what is he thinking. He's not getting away, they never get away. Best possible outcome is we cuff him hard and hit him over the head with our sticks. That's the best possible outcome."

"Attention all units, spike strips have been laid down at the seventh street overpass."

As the line of vehicles headed over the bridge, Tom spied the spike strips and a whole crowd of people yelling and jostling for position off to the side. The truck slammed on its brakes and halted right before it ran over the spikes.

The patrol cars braked hard and the officers were just taking up position when a man with a cricket bat ran out in the middle of the street and clambered up into the truck bed. With a yell of "Charlene", he began waving his bat around to the amusement of the crowd and the bewilderment of the officers.

"What the hell is he doing?" Tom muttered.

* * *

_Ray_

"Oh this is good," was Ray's dry comment. Grabbing the radio and setting it to broadcast he added, "Man with bat, get out of the street." When the idiot jumping and waving his bat ignored the order, Ray tried again. "Man. With. Bat. Get out of the street."

Tires squealed as the truck went into reverse. The ersatz passenger grabbed onto the cab but went tumbling over the tailgate as the truck powered forward. The crowd scattered as the truck forced its way onto the sidewalk and sped away.

"Oooh," Ray groaned as Tom slid back into his seat and closed the door. "Nice work Kianu," Ray called out the window as they drove past the bat-wielding idiot. The patrol car followed the truck onto the sidewalk and accelerated as the chase renewed.

"One Frank Forty-Nine Patrol, the WC requests that you make an attempt to stop suspect vehicle as soon as prudently possible."

"One Frank Forty-Nine, roger," Tom radioed. Then he added to his partner, "You just love this part don't you?"

"You kidding? What's not to love?" Ray protested. "Grown man getting paid to run a bad guy off the road." Ray accelerated and shifted the patrol car into position. "Ramming speed."

Metal screeched as the patrol car hit the fleeing truck in a rear panel. The truck skidded sideways and the patrol car's front grate impacted the dead center of the truck. The two vehicles came apart as Ray turned the wheel ever so slightly to the side. The truck hurtled forward and rolled over several times. Glass and metal alike flew everywhere. The truck finally came to rest with a monumental groan on its side as Ray and Tom's patrol car braked to a stop just behind it.

The fleet of patrol cars swiftly took up positions around the totaled truck. They were taking no chances with a homicide suspect. An unmarked car pulled up and Detectives Joel Stevens and Bobby 'Fearless' Smith slid out. The two raced around the back of their car and over to Ray and Tom's patrol car.

"Wilson!" Tom was calling, "Can you hear me?"

"Any movement?" Joel asked.

"No," Ray replied.

On the other side of the car, Tom changed tactics. "Wilson! If you can hear me, show me your hands."

Glass crunched as a young, Hispanic male began pulling himself out of the car. He pulled himself over the door and dropped to the ground. Joel's eyes widened.

"It's not Wilson," he called, already moving again. The two detectives raced back to their car, each calling out orders on their radios.

"Suspect Wilson Minor still at large."

* * *

_Prowl_

The jolt of impact jostled long deactivated machinery. Lights flickered a moment. The sound of metal on metal covered the whirr of a computer coming online. Systems long inert begin processing and sending feedback to the computer.

There was a long moment as the battle computer attempted to communicate with the central processor. Overrides hummed. "Battle computer online. Scanning environment. Conflict detected. Combat analysis initiated. Earth natives present. Accessing rules of engagement." There was a pause as the battle computer prepared to transform if needed. A very specific override checked the computer's actions. "Transformation cog disengaged. Data gathering and analysis orders acknowledged. Combat situation stable. Accessing Earth native computer."

Had the two officers been in their patrol car, they would have seen alien images and encoding racing across their computer screen. But they weren't and by the time they reached their patrol car, the battle computer had pulled all relevant data from the computer.

"Initiating repair systems. Estimated time of repair: unknown. Current status of Autobot forces: unknown. Current location: Los Angeles, California, USA. Primary course of action: Maintain cover as an LAPD patrol car. Secondary course of action: Assist officers if possible. Tertiary course of action: Collect information on officers using current alt mode. New information files: Officer Ray Hechler and Officer Tom Turcotte."

As the patrol car pulled to a stop and the two officers headed inside to finish up their shift, headlights flickered a moment. The emblem on the old car flipped down and a new one flipped back up. The few dents and scratches left by the patrol car's impact with the truck vanished. LA's sunset glittered off the hood a moment, illuminating the Autobot insignia.

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A/N: *bounces hopefully* Was it better? I'm really trying to keep the story moving but should I be going back and putting in more detail? *puppy eyes* Please read and review


	3. Chapter 3 Don't Mess with a Medic

The Streets of Boomtown

Summary: A series of oneshots and ficlets following Prowl and his human partners Ray Hechler and Tom Turcotte.

Don't Mess with a Medic

A/N: Since I haven't gotten any shrieks of confusion, I'm just going to keep plowing ahead. If, at some point, someone has a problem figuring out what the heck is going on and _reviews_ (hint, hint), I will go back and try to straighten things out. (Or you could go out and get Boomtown on DVD.) With no further ado…on with the show!

* * *

_Ratchet_

The former Autobot medic grumbled to himself. Humans had such erratic driving habits. One minute they could be cruising down the road, obeying all the traffic laws, and the next, they were swerving right in front of him and slamming on the brakes! His driver, Randy, wasn't so bad but even so, Ratchet had just had to adjust their course to avoid an oblivious bolt-brain on a cell phone. It might have been just the cranky, old medic but it seemed as if there were more lunatics than usual. _Might have something to do with this 'Halloween' holiday the humans have_, the ambulance mused. And naturally, his human partners and he were working on this human holiday. Though Teresa didn't seem to mind. Ratchet shifted his attention to the radio, hoping to Primus that they could find a nice, non-fatal but time-consuming accident that would keep them busy for awhile. As often happens in such cases, Unicron answered with the screech of brakes and a startled shout from Randy.

Had the medic been riding alone, the gun-toting cowboys that piled out of the beat-up truck would have found themselves facing down an already annoyed Autobot. But with Randy and Teresa in his cab, Ratchet couldn't transform. The Autobot gave a low hiss as the cowboys forced Randy out, but kept Teresa in his cab. Cold-cocking Randy and cutting his radio cord got the idiots on his permanent bad side. Seething, Ratchet switched on his GPS and started transmitting his location to a handy police computer. With any luck, someone would notice and get curious enough to check things out. That was the general idea because unless Teresa got out of his cab, he refused to risk her safety by transforming. His scan of their 'patient' brought even more bad news. The man was dying and nothing Teresa could do would change that. Ratchet's spark clenched. He would not stand by and let her be killed for failing to do the impossible. The Autobot ignored the wild driving in favor of weighing his options. His processor chewed on the problem a moment before throwing up a rather startling option. His holoform. He'd never used the thing, since touring Earth had never been on his agenda, he simply hadn't needed a holoform. In fact, he distinctly recalled Wheeljack appealing to first Prowl and then Prime to force the medic to accept the upgrade. He offered a silent apology to his engineer friend as he began to boot up the program. He was brought up short as the program requested a 'base image'. Had he been in mech form, he would have grit his dental plates at the unwelcome snag. Hastily, he pulled up an image of Randy and thrust it at the program. It processed the image and then inquired as to what changes he would like to make. Ratchet nearly lost his temper before he noticed that he could simply use Randy's image for the moment and 'customize' his appearance later. The ring of a cell-phone brought his attention back to his passengers. _Slag._

_

* * *

_

_Teresa_

"Hello?"

"Who are you talking to?" came the immediate demand from her captor. Teresa swiftly hid the phone and moved next to the man's dead brother.

"Your brother, I thought he said something."

"He awake?" came the nervous and excited query.

"No! Don't come back here," Teresa cried, stopping the man's movement. "His wound's open, it could get infected." Not that infection would matter much to the now dead man anymore.

"Alright." The other was noticeably disappointed but closed the door and drove the ambulance into the warehouse. Teresa waited until the man got out of the truck to close the warehouse doors. Teresa checked out the window to make sure he was gone before cautiously pulling Randy's cell out of her pocket.

"Hello? I'm fine, who's this?" She listened a moment, then said, "Okay just a second." She pulled an earpiece out of Randy's jacket and connected it to the phone. "Hello, can you hear me?"

A quick peer through the window revealed that she was running out of time as her captor closed the warehouse door. The ambulance shifted a little beneath her but she ignored the movement. In response to her caller's question she replied, "So far." As the gunman moved back toward the truck, the vehicle shifted again. "Okay, he's coming back." Teresa quickly moved into position beside the dead man and pretended to work on him.

"How's he doin'?"

"Oh, he's fine. Ah, where are we?"

"Why?"

"I just need to know what kind of supplies we've got here."

"What do you need?"

"Anti-bionics, some more blood…"

The man's voice raised as he snapped, "This is an ambulance, don't you have that stuff here?"

Teresa overrode him with, "Look, your brother has a bullet in his chest. Now you said that I had to fix him, otherwise you're gonna kill me, so please, there are things that I need, alright?"

The other's tone turned considering. "Alright, alright, just give me a minute to think where I can find 'em."

Determined to keep the upper hand and get her captor out of the ambulance, Teresa asked, "Okay, well while you're thinking, could you get me some water. Or do they not have water here?"

The other smirked. "They have water." He closed the doors on her and strode away.

Teresa waited a moment before saying, "Okay he's out of the ambulance." A pause, then, "No. It's all dark, it looks like some empty warehouse or something. No he took the keys." The ambulance abruptly rumbled, startling Teresa but she kept talking. "Look, should I just run for it? Okay, no you're right. With what? No we don't carry any scalpels. I got an idea. We carry Epinephrine. Enough of it will stop his heart. My patient? Well that's the problem. Because I thought he had a tension pneumo thorax but it's really a pericardial tamponade. It means that the bullet isn't in his lung, it's in his heart. His chances? Well, none now, he died a couple of minutes ago." There was a sudden rumble as the ambulance's engine turned over and the headlights came on. Teresa yelped in surprise as the vehicle shifted into gear.

"Hold on," came a growled order that seemed to come from around her. The terrified paramedic grabbed hold of the chair she was in as the ambulance reversed into the warehouse door. The door gave a squeal of protest that drowned out the voice of Teresa's caller. The ambulance's engine revved, and metal began to shriek.

"Hey! Stop that thing right now!" Teresa gulped as the apparently animate vehicle locked the doors and revved even higher.

"Teresa!"

"Oh God in heaven."

There was another shriek of metal on metal and then the warehouse door gave way, landing with a crash on the pavement outside. The ambulance lurched backwards and Teresa yelped again as the truck turned sharply. She peered out at the gate and froze. The gunman was standing in front of the gate, gun raised. Her gaze shifted inside as the ambulance put on the brakes and began revving again. The man in front of the gate paled but didn't move.

"Move human," the ambulance growled. "I'm in a _very_ bad mood right now."

Still the other stayed where he was. The steering wheel shifted to the left and the brakes released. Teresa gasped but they shot right by and rammed the gates. The gates crashed open and the ambulance squealed into a turn and turned on both its lights and its siren as it accelerated.

Less than a mile away, the vehicle pulled over and halted. Teresa scrambled out and whirled toward the suspect truck. Barely aware that she still had Randy's cell on, she demanded, "What are you?"

Woman and ambulance faced off for a few seconds. Teresa jumped as a man simply appeared right in front of her. He looked exactly like Randy but she knew it wasn't. His head tilted a moment, regarding her. "Ratchet," the other rumbled, offering a hand. Hesitant, she took it. It felt cool and smooth, not like a real human hand would be.

"Are you a ghost?" she couldn't help asking.

He eyed her a moment, gaze turning distant. Then his focus snapped back to her as he chuckled, a low gravelly sound. "No." He turned and Teresa jumped again. She could see right through him now. A brow lifted and he followed her gaze. A shimmer and his form was solid again. "Forgive me. It's the first time I've used a holoform."

"What?"

Instead of responding, Ratchet walked over to the front of the now silent ambulance. When she stood still, he beckoned her over. Cautious, she approached. "Here," he said, pointing at the hood. An insignia of a red, robotic face was embedded, right where the manufacturer's symbol had been. Confused, she shook her head.

"You don't recognize it?"

"No."

"Humph. Very well then. I'm not a ghost, I'm an Autobot."

For what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, she gasped. Joel was never going to believe her.

* * *

A/N: *smirk* Enter the medic. Just to explain, the episode featured in today's oneshot was absolutely perfect for our favorite medic. Prowl (and Ray, and Tom) will appear again but I decided to skip over the episodes where Prowl's primary action is more data-gathering since he's not 'online' yet. Next up: Who Shot the Turkey?


	4. Chapter 4 Awakening

The Streets of Boomtown

Summary: A series of oneshots and ficlets following Prowl and his human partners Ray Hechler and Tom Turcotte.

* * *

Chapter Four: Awakening

A/N: Okay *smirk* I had intended this chapter to be a certain Autobot's grand entránce, but my muse did not agree.

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't make your troubles any worse than they already are."

_Primary system repairs complete. Restarting system._

"Get Wily in the car and get him out of here."

_Where am I?_

"Can I just talk to Fearless?"

_What happened?_

"His name is Eric. Eric Sorrenson."

_Data files? How long was I out?_

"Come on Tom. Let's get 'Eric' here back to the station."

_What do I do now?_

_

* * *

_

A/N: My first ficlet = ) Please, please, please read and review.


	5. Chapter 5 Who Shot the Turkey?

The Streets of Boomtown

Summary: A series of oneshots and ficlets following Prowl and his human partners Ray Hechler and Tom Turcotte.

Chapter Five: Who Shot the Turkey?

A/N: _italics_ = thoughts

* * *

_Fearless_

"What do you think?" Joel asked over his shoulder.

Fearless eyed the sporting goods store where a robbery gone bad had turned into a hostage situation. "I think if they don't respond, they're gonna have more holes than that turkey."

Behind the two detectives, Hechler quietly briefed their captain. "We rolled on the 2-11. Got here just as they were coming out. Shots fired. Then they got back in."

Hicks nodded absently. "Who shot the turkey?"

Ray shrugged as Tom gave the captain a tiny smirk.

"Comin' out," Joel hissed.

The perp shoving a terrified male hostage out the door yelled, "Get back! Get back or I'll kill him."

Fearless moved around the squad car as Joel added, "I got your back."

"You always do man." A short whistle and the perp whirled to face the detective.

"Can we talk? I'm Detective Bobby Smith."

"Stop right there." The other ordered. Fearless halted, hands up. "Hands higher. Higher."

As the white male scanned around, eying all the cops, Fearless asked, "Want to give me your name?"

"Iggie. That's my name."

"Look man, we want this whole thing to end peacefully. Give up now and I guarantee things will go a whole lot easier."

The other ignored that, except to shove his gun harder into his captive's neck. "I want a van. Big enough for six. Food, water, and two bullet-proof vests. I'm gonna take four hostages to Mexico. When I know we're safe, then I'll let them go."

"Just do what he says," the hostage broke in.

"Shut up!"

"I'll do everything that I can," Fearless interjected quickly. "But I've got to do my job, which is to find out about hostages and causalities."

The perp considered a moment. "A woman got shot."

"She alive?"

"Bleeding."

"How 'bout you let her out? You don't want to murder…"

This was apparently too far, for 'Iggie' yelled, "No one leaves 'til I get a van."

"Look man. You've been around the block a few times, right?" A brief nod. "The lady dies, your negotiating position takes a serious nosedive."

"Bring in a doctor. With two bullet-proof vests and some food. Burgers and fries."

Fearless frowned. "We prefer not to put anyone else inside."

"I don't give a damn. If I don't get my van in thirty minutes, I'll start dropping bodies out the door. You got that?" the perp yelled as he dragged his hostage back inside.

* * *

_Ratchet_

"If it were my decision, you wouldn't even be going in," Joel informed Teresa.

_Sure, get her blood up. Make it a challenge._ Ratchet grumped. He wanted to be the one going in. But both Randy and Teresa were still nervous about him in the aftermath of Halloween. The medic supposed that scaring Teresa to death had probably made a bad first impression. They were beginning to accept him, but trusting him in a situation with hostages and guns was apparently too much to ask. Ratchet was about to go on another internal rant when one of the officers stepped in.

"I'll go in. Instead of Teresa." _Oh?_

"What are you talkin' about?" The older black captain demanded.

"Maybe I feel like getting off the couch." _Oh wonderful. Good work Joel. Insult the guy and then watch as he turns said insult against you._ The ambulance grumbled. He knew perfectly well what was coming next.

"Well I have to go in because Randy's only a P 2 and this is a gunshot wound."

"I got her back Captain, she'll be okay with me," Randy insisted. _Nice, very nice. Now listen to the nice paramedics._ Ratchet pleaded. He did not want the large, overweight cop who probably spent more time eating than working out looking out for 'his' Teresa.

"You're not trained to evaluate the situation." _Point._

"She's my partner."

"No Randy he's right." _Don't agree with him, Teresa._ "It's better if he goes in." _Slag._

"Alright, you know what? I'll go in with her," Joel broke in. _Oh like that's going to work genius. You insulted him, now you're trying to steal his thunder, he is going to knock you on your butt. Even __**I**__ can see that._

"I'm going in."

"Ray, with all due respect…"

"Give me a break Stevens, I was making my bones when you were polishing your brass at the academy." _Point, set, match._ Ratchet mused. _Hechler: One, Stevens: Zero._

"Ray, look, I think Joel's got a point," the captain said, attempting to step in. Ratchet winced. Hechler had the look of a guy that was going to stand his ground and hold it against all comers. _Why am I cheering for him? I don't want him with Teresa…although…at least he won't be so busy trying to protect her, like that idiot Joel._

"You said to step up Captain. I'm steppin' up." The silent referee/medic added another point on Hechler's score. The captain, realizing he was beat, stepped back and nodded.

"Okay, fine."

Hechler tossed a brief glare in Joel's direction as Joel started to argue again. _Give it up Stevens. He won that round._

Hechler's partner pulled Randy with him as the large cop moved off. "Randy can you help me find him something to wear?"

_I have a very bad feeling about this._

_

* * *

_

_Prowl_

Prowl was quietly taking advantage of his two human partners' absence to run information through the police database. Although he'd checked all the information his battle computer had collected in the months since it had come online, it never hurt to double-check. In this case, he was searching for more data on 'Vista Heights'. There were far too many gaps in his intel on that particular case to make a final determination on whether or not he should stay in L.A. with Ray Hechler and Tom Turcotte. His battle computer gave a bleep, drawing the tactician's immediate notice. _Slag, slag, slag._ The hostage situation had just escalated to the point that Prowl knew, _knew_ he would have to step in. Or regret not doing anything for the rest of his life.

Holoform system initiated. Hacking store surveillance cameras. Evaluating positions and running combat situation analysis. Primary method of infiltration/combat selected: Holoform. Compute.

Prowl scowled. Revealing his existence to Tom now might become necessary but he hoped not. _Can't unring a bell, but no need if the bell isn't rung in the first place._

System error: Holoform data not found. Please enter base image.

Much as Ratchet had done on Halloween, Prowl hastily chose a base image (Tom) and shoved it at the holoform program. However, the tactician knew perfectly well that if he did not change the image, his ship was sunk. Ray would know that his partner could not possibly have snuck in and even if he was fooled, the game would be up the moment the big cop stepped out of the sports store. Alterations were therefore required.

Hair darkened from brown to black and Tom's short cut was lengthened out an inch. Brown eyes because a piercing, icy blue. The eyebrows slanted downward, the jaw tightening and creating the impression of a stern expression. The form gained an inch of height and muscles became more defined. The police uniform shifted to jeans and a white t-shirt with black trim. A necklace, sporting the Autobot insignia materialized. Police boots gave way to dark brown hiking boots. Prowl armed his new holoform with a knife and a Beretta, the latter carried in a back mounted holster under the shirt.

Preparations complete, Prowl examined the plan his battle computer had come up with. Given the fact that Hechler's status as a hostage meant the LAPD was willing to actually give the suspects a van, the battle computer had computed that the best time to strike was when the hostages were being moved to the van. Ray's weight practically ensured that they wouldn't be taking him along. The big cop's position, tied to a pole in the camping gear section, meant Prowl could creep up behind the suspects and cut Ray loose. However, either Prowl would have to confront the suspects or he would have to find a gun for Ray…

* * *

_Ray_

Ray watched anxiously as the criminals started picking which hostages to take. He knew that unless Van Buren stepped up, everyone who got in that van was dead. That Flood, with his grudge against the police, would probably kill Ray before he left was a distinct possibility as well.

"Les," he called, as the store manager rose, "Les. I need your help."

The man looked at him, desperation showing. "I told you."

"Come on," Ray hissed, his own desperation showing, "Dig deep man."

"I can't."

"You were Jack Wesson. You were bigger than Sonny Crocket, bigger than Manix, better than Cannon." An exaggeration, Ray knew, but he also knew that if he failed, people would end up dead.

"I _can't_."

"Les you were a hero to millions of people. You still are. You don't believe me?" Ray cast about, but the TV above suddenly cut to a newscaster with Van Buren's picture in the top corner. _How did that happen?_ "Look. Look. Look for yourself." Ray tuned out the report in favor of watching Van Buren. The other's back was straightening, pride showing.

"Les, get me loose," Ray called. They were running out of time.

Les's jaw firmed and he strode over to Ray. "Okay."

"You willing to risk bodily injury?"

"Yes."

"Alright, as a police officer of the City of Los Angeles, I grant you Posse comitatus status. You have full police powers, which extend for the entire duration of the situation."

Les nodded frantically. "What do I do?"

"Get a knife, cut me loose."

"Hey!" Flood was back. "Get away from him. What are you doing."

Les's newfound resolve vanished. "Nothing."

"We're getting in the van."

As Les moved off, Flood turned toward Ray. Ray knew what was coming but he still met the other's gaze with defiance. Flood smirked at the helpless cop.

"We're taking four hostages down to Mexico and you're not gonna be one of them."

"You kill me, you won't get in that van."

"Yeah, maybe, maybe not."

"They'll blitz this place."

Flood ignored that as he pulled out a cell phone. "Yeah? So what?" Flipping the phone open, he added, "I want you to do something for me. I want you to call you wife and tell her you're not coming home tonight."

Ray turned away as much as he could. "Go to hell."

"I want your wife to get the same call that I got when you cops broke my brother's back."

"No," Ray said flatly. "But I know the cop who took your brother down. His name is Andy Walker. Yeah, Flood, I knew who you were since I come in here. You want to take your anger at Walker out at me you go ahead, but you oughta know. Andy Walker was on his knees praying for your brother to walk again, 'cause the pain goes both ways." Ray ignored Flood's disdain. "Your brother. He put a lil' old lady into a coma. If anybody's back had to get broke, I'm glad it was his."

Flood held the phone out. "Call your wife."

"No."

"**You. Call your wife,**" Flood shouted, shoving his gun in Ray's face. "Tell her you're not coming home for dinner tonight."

Ray eyed the phone, the makings of a plan forming. He took the phone, dialing a very specific number. _Checkmate._ "Yeah, Cherie. I got a little problem here at work. Things are tough, I might not get out so anything happens to me, I want you to know that I got some cash stashed, it's under my camping gear. Maybe two grand total. Yeah, yeah, look under the camping gear. Honey, honey, calm down. I need you to understand what I'm telling you…and I love you, I love you."

"Alright that's enough," Flood growled, snatching back the phone. He pulled a pillow out, fitting it over the gun and bringing it up to point at Ray's face. The big cop instinctively cringed at what was coming.

_Crack._

Ray peeked, to see Flood looking down at the bloodstain spreading across his shirt. For a moment, the man staggered. He looked up at Ray, blood starting to show at his mouth. He started to bring the gun up but he'd gotten close enough that Ray was able to grab the pole, hoist himself up and kick Flood in the chest. Flood collapsed and Ray looked up, expecting to see Van Buren. Nothing.

"Impressive."

Awkward, Ray turned to see a man about an inch shorter, with dark hair striding down the aisle toward him. Blue eyes scanned the store, searching for any movement.

"What was?" Ray asked.

The other smirked. "Calling your partner instead of your wife."

Ray froze. _How does he know that?_ The big cop tensed further at the sight of the knife the other almost casually pulled.

The footsteps halted, the other eying him. "Don't worry. This is just to cut you loose with." Actions fitted to words and Ray was soon massaging the feeling back into his wrists.

"Thanks."

A nod and then the other pulled out the gun. "Fifteen in the clip, one round fired." He offered it and Ray took the piece, hefting it.

"How did you get my gun?"

The other gave him a smile. "I've done my work here. The rest is up to you." Before Ray could say anything, the other was simply gone. _What the heck was that?_

_

* * *

_

_Tom_

Tom had spent most of his time pacing back and forth. The look from Fearless that said, _Knock it off_ was the cue for the young cop to retreat to the squad car. He paused, frowning at the open door. A quick look made him tense. Ray's belt, which had been at the bottom of the pile, was laying on the side seat with an empty holster. Anger flared. Someone had taken his _partner's _gun. When he caught whoever it was, they were going to be in a whole heap of trouble. Tom straightened, just as his phone rang.

"Hello."

"Yeah, Cherie. I got a little problem here at work."

"Ray you okay?"

"Things are tough, I might not get out so anything happens to me, I want you to know that I got some cash stashed, it's under my camping gear. Maybe two grand total."

"Alright, alright."

"Yeah, yeah, look under the camping gear."

"Sit tight, we're gonna get you out, you hear me?"

"Honey, honey, calm down. I need you to understand what I'm telling you"

"Got it."

"…and I love you, I love you." _Click._

Tom stood still a moment, thinking. _Don't worry Ray, we'll get you out…somehow._

"Captain Hicks!"

* * *

Tom and Joel stood right behind the sniper, watching the store anxiously.

"He said under camping gear," Tom muttered, watching as the sniper peered through his scope, searching for the right sign. There was a long pause as the man adjusted his weapon, then nodded.

"Joel," Fearless's voice crackled through the radio. "Green light from command."

"Roger that," Joel replied, keying the radio. The detective crouched down behind the sniper. "Take the shot."

A long pause, as the sniper aimed. _Crack._

The suspect jerked, then slumped. Tom leaned forward, watching his partner straighten up from behind a shelf. Ray moved forward, toward both the suspect and the man that had obviously been used as a last minute shield. He grabbed the suspect's weapon, then gave the all-clear sign through the cracked window.

* * *

Tom followed Joel toward the building, ignoring the reporters, the DA, and the babbling man who'd been one of the hostages. The only person he was interested was walking out of the building, holding his ribs and carrying a familiar weapon.

Tom slid around the reporters, unable to hide his grin as he grabbed his partner around the shoulders. "Hey. Enough excitement for one day huh Super cop?"

Ray grinned back, retorting, "Save it for your girlfriend."

"Ray!"

Cherie burst through the line, grabbing Ray in a hug and a kiss. Ray just held her, having hastily pasted off his weapon to Tom. Tom's grin grew bigger as he watched the two. Idly he looked down and his eyes widened. Ray's gun. Ray's _Beretta_. The one that only a few minutes ago he had realized was missing. He knew for a fact his partner had gone in unarmed.

"Ray?" he asked quietly, looking up at his partner who had turned to him again.

"Later, k?"

"Sure."

"I've got to go talk to Les one more time."

"What for?"

Ray's gaze turned shadowed. "Spath was wearing a vest when we went in. Only reason he'd need two is…"

Tom nodded. "Sorry Ray."

"Me too, partner, me too."

Tom watched his partner head off to finish doing his job. His gaze snagged on the patrol car and a glimmer of something off the windshield. Sighing, he walked over to it and leaned against the hood. He knew Van Buren had been one of Ray's heroes. Knew too, how much it hurt when those heroes turned out to be just as human as the next guy. His fingers brushed something and he turned to look._ Why the heck is the emblem a red, robotic face?_ The young officer shrugged and turned back. His partner was alive, the hostages were alive and life was good. The grin returned as he realized the drinks would all be on Ray.

* * *

A/N: Enter the Prowl. *grin* Cyber cookie for those who can see the subtle (and not so subtle) hints of just what Prowlie was up to in that sports store. Cyber brownie (yum) to those who attempt to puzzle out the mystery of Ray's gun. As for Les…well, I found him rather pathetic. The whole chain of events could have been stopped if he hadn't been so hung up on the big score. On the other hand, that's why we're human. (And if he had wised up, we wouldn't have an episode 'cause there wouldn't have been a robbery.) Anyway, please read and review. Input on how the point of view thing is working, along with the general understandability of my oneshots/ficlets is much appreciated. P.S. Cyber pizza if you figure out who shot the turkey.


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